


Echoes Down the Hallway

by peacefrog



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Episode: s11e03 The Bad Seed, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 13:25:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5050252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peacefrog/pseuds/peacefrog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean wakes in the dead of the night, the cool flesh of Cas’ palm pressed against his cheek.</p><p>Coda for 11x03, The Bad Seed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Echoes Down the Hallway

Dean wakes in the dead of the night, the cool flesh of Cas’ palm pressed softly against his cheek.

“Dammit, Cas,” Dean groans, the icy chill of grace flaring beneath his skin, crawling up his spine, coiling around his toes. “I said I didn’t want it.”

“I don’t care.” Cas says flatly, face half illuminated by the bedside lamp. “You have punished yourself enough for one lifetime, Dean.”

“It’s what I deserve.” Bleary-eyed and shaken from the sudden wake-up call, Dean meets Cas’ gaze in the half-light.

“And do you think I deserved to be punished for what I did under Naomi’s control?”

“That’s not the same thing, Cas.” Dean aches, something visceral and vacant. Something desolate and empty stirring in his belly. Something angel grace could never touch.

“It is the exact same thing.” Cas’ hand grips Dean’s shoulder, squeezing, sparking something primal and hot in his chest. “Everything you’ve done, you have done because you believed it to be the right thing at the time. The only thing.”

Dean’s eyes flick shut as Cas’ hand slides up to rest against the tender flesh of his neck, warmth seeping down into all the hollow spaces carved behind his ribs, behind his eyes, touching something deeper than his bones.

“You should sleep,” Cas whispers. “I can make it easier for you, if you’d like.”

“Cas I swear, if you mojo me to sleep I will hide the coffee pot somewhere you will never find.”

Dean opens his eyes just in time to see a smile break across Cas’ face, soft and gentle and more blinding than the harsh yellow glow battering his eyes. He gives Dean’s shoulder one final squeeze, rising to his feet, turning to leave just as Dean catches his wrist.

“Dean?” Cas’ brow furrows as he perches on the bed once more.

“Can I ask you something?” Dean pushes his body upright, leaning back against the headboard. Cas shifts in closer, turning until their thighs press tightly together.

“Of course.”

“Are you still tuned into, uh…” Dean looks down at his hands, tracing the life line of his palm with one finger. “Prayers… You still hear those?”

“I do. Although there aren’t many coming in these days.” Cas pulls Dean’s hand away from tracing over his palm, places his own finger there instead, smoothing along the deep curve in the sensitive, slightly calloused skin. “Not many, other than yours, Dean.”

Dean has prayed a lot in recent days. After the mark was removed, after the darkness came rushing out, after Cas didn’t answer so many of his phone calls. He did what he always does, some habitual thing he often doesn’t even realize he’s doing. Praying to Cas is akin to breathing. Sometimes he forgets that Cas can actually hear him.

“I heard you. I never tune you out.” Cas covers Dean’s hand with his own. “And I’m sorry I couldn’t come to you, Dean, I just—”

“I know, Cas.” Dean’s fingers curl around Cas’ wrist. “Believe me. I know.”

Dean’s prayers had mostly been abstract, fragments of thoughts, spindly threads of consciousness. Howling inside his mind like a wounded animal. Pleading like a child torn away from their mother. Others, however, were far more precise in their aim.

“You’ve known for a long time, haven’t you?” Dean clutches at the fabric of Cas’ coat, fingers digging into his forearm. “How long have you known?”

“For as long as you have been aching.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because you were never ready for me to.” Cas reaches out, tracing the line of Dean’s bottom lip with his thumb. “Now… I think that might be changing.”

“ _Cas_...” Dean squeezes his eyes shut as Cas’ fingers brush against his jaw.

“We have both done awful things, Dean. You have hurt me, and I have hurt you.” Cas smiles, fingers curling around Dean’s nape. “But I forgive you, and I know that you forgive me.” 

Cas shifts even closer, leaning in until Dean is certain Cas’ mouth is going to make contact with his own. Instead, Cas presses a gentle kiss to Dean’s forehead, the warmth of his lips like sparks setting him alight, flames igniting every part of him.

“We deserve some of that forgiveness for ourselves.” Cas continues, pressing their foreheads together, closing his eyes. “The time for atonement is over, my friend.”

They breathe each other in, fingertips grazing stubbled jawlines, hands grasping at bunched fabric. Dean wants so desperately to reach out for more, more, more, so afraid Cas is going to slip like sand through his fingers if he dares to believe he might even deserve it.

“Stay with me tonight.” Dean’s voice is a broken whisper between them.

“Yes,” Cas assures him. “I will stay with you always, Dean.”


End file.
